


Avenger One-Shots [Open Requests!]

by rSilvers (NovaShadow)



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M, Gen, Pregnant! Reader, cursing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-20 15:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6015178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovaShadow/pseuds/rSilvers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A medley of Avengers One-Shots! Rating may or may not go up depending on the prompts I receive.</p><p>Requests are open!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Why, Betty Crocker? [ClintxReader]

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first story here on Archive. It's been a long, long time since I've written anything so if you have any feedback, ideas, hints, or tips, let me know!
> 
> Requests are open!
> 
> Prompt:  
> Person A baked person B some cookies. “They’re nothing special. Go on, try one!” An urged. B picked one up and took a bite. “You’re wrong, these are really special! They taste like no cookie I’ve ever had before!” B said. “They’re absolutely terrible!”

\---

“Why the fuck is this so goddamn hard?” You muttered to yourself, pulling out the aluminum tray from the _only slightly_ smoking oven. You brought it over to the kitchen island, staring mournfully at the charred lumps of black littering the tray. Heaving a sigh, you glanced around the chaotic kitchen. Clumps of dough speckled the countertops and you were absolutely covered in flour. Bowls of discarded dough and dirty measuring cups cluttered the sink, not to mention the floor was in dire need of a mopping.

“Hoard of Hydra agents? Sure, no fucking problem! But one tray of cookies and I’m as useless as a fucking whore in a monastery!” You continued to murmur angrily to yourself. Clint was due to come home in, you glanced at the clock, two hours. This was your fourth tray of ash and you really needed to make this tray work- you were running out of time.

How was it that difficult? With a Masters in Biogeochemical Engineering, a simple tray of cookies couldn’t be your downfall, could it? Clint was finally coming home after 5 weeks away on an undercover op for SHIELD and, since his arrival would coincide with Valentine’s Day, you figured a nice tray of cookies would satisfy his sweet tooth and would make a ‘sweet’ treat for V-Day. You snickered to yourself at the pun.

You let the smoldering cookie carcasses cool down before dumping them in trash, joining their scorched brethren. Giving the tray a quick scrub down to remove all traces of failure, you pre-heated the oven again and began anew.

You re-read the instructions on the box of cookie mix for the umpteenth time, pouring the exact measurement of powder into yet _another_ bowl. Adding the melted butter, egg, and chocolate chips, you whisked quickly until the lumpy dough started to solidify and had to be kneaded manually. Forming small balls, you placed roughly half of the dough onto the pre-greased tray. You prayed to Betty Crocker that these cookies would turn out only marginally burnt and somewhat edible before shoving the tray back into the oven and setting the timer to 10 minutes.

 You glanced back at the clock- fuck, only an hour and a half left to clean up the kitchen, shower, and change. You took a deep breath and tackled the first chore on your list. Shoving all the dirty dishes into the sink, you worked thoroughly.

 “Should’ve called the guy to fix the dishwasher last week,” you admonished yourself, placing another bowl onto the dish rack. The oven alarm went off, startling you from your dishwashing frenzy. Grabbing a clean towel, you opened the oven door and nearly cried out of joy.

 “It’s about time!” You cheered, dragging the tray out of the oven and setting it back down on the island.

 “Alright, 10 minutes to cool before moving them to a plate,” you reminded yourself, switching right back to finishing the dishes.

 It took you fifteen minutes to finish the dishes before you quickly and masterfully piled the warm cookies onto a dry plate. Glancing at the clock- fuck! 45 minutes before he’s home!

 You tugged the apron over your head and tossed it straight into the hamper, undressing in your haste to get into the shower. You meticulously wash your hair before firmly scrubbing away any traces of cookie dough or flour. Finishing in record time, you wrapped your hair in a towel and gave yourself a brisk pat down before dashing into the bedroom.

“Fuck, what do I wear?” You hummed to yourself, fluttering through the closet. You slipped on a random pair of panties that featured little birds on it and a gray bra.

“He’s probably going to be exhausted so no hanky-panky tonight,” You laughed, “so let’s go with a simple tee and jeans? Sure, why not.”

You slipped on your most comfortable pair of dark jeans, a simple plain gray tee shirt, and a pair of Captain America socks. Fifteen minutes? Sweet.

You walked back into the living room and opened up Netflix. Clint normally liked to wind down with an episode or two of The Walking Dead while explaining how he could take down a fleet of walkers with only 3 arrows.

You were about to pull out a beer from the fridge when you heard the door unlocking. Barely able to contain your excitement, you bound back into the living room and practically threw yourself at your boyfriend.

“Well hello to you too,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist after shutting this door with his foot. You drew back to peer at his face.

“Hey,” you whispered, grinning before pressing your lips against his. He returned the kiss with great enthusiasm, hauling your legs up and around his waist. You nibbled at his bottom lip as he walked you into the kitchen. Setting you down onto the island, Clint buried one of his hands into your hair and gently pulled. You sighed blissfully, dragging your blunt nails along his hips. You heard his breath hitch and smiled into the kiss, breaking away.

“Hey,” he breathed back, smiling back and placing a warm kiss on your temple. You brought your hands up to his face smoothed out the lines on his forehead.

“You look exhausted,” you chuckled.

“I feel like a 50 ton elephant trampled all over me,” he grunted, pressing kisses into your palm.

“I missed you,” you whispered, drawing your hands down to massage his neck. He groaned throatily, leaning onto your shoulder.

“The intel we got was inaccurate,” his reply muffled by your shirt. “We were supposed to be back 2 weeks ago but we had to start from scratch. Even Steve was getting agitated. Mr. Stars-n-Stripes nearly ripped some dude’s head off when he found out our lead was lying. Long story short,” he sighed, “I’m fucking glad to be home.”

You simply held each other for a few moments, basking in the serene silence and comfort of being together again before Clint extracted himself from your embrace. He was about to say something before the plate of cookies caught his eye.

“Oh ho, what do we have here?” He laughed, walking over to the plate. You hopped off the island and stood next to him nervously.

“Oh they’re nothing special,” you mumbled. “Go on, try one! I got the mix on sale and decided to go it a go. I mean, how difficult can making cookies be? I mean, it’s just powder and egg and butter and stuff,” you rambled nervously.

He laughed again before taking a bite. His eyes widened comically before shoving the entire cookie into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

“So,” you started after a period of silence, “…how are they?” Eyes still wide, he turned to stare at you.

“What? Clint, really, how are they? I know they’re probably not that good, it’s just a box mix.

“You’re wrong, these are really special!” He exclaimed, holding up another cookie. “They taste like no cookie I’ve ever had before.” He held the cookie reverently in his hand.

“You’re not saying that because, as my boyfriend, you’re obligated to, right?” You looked at him hopefully. Holy shit, did he really like them?

“I’ve honestly never had cookies like these before,” he gazed at you sincerely.

“They’re absolutely terrible!” He snickered, dodging the towel you threw at his face.

“You dickhead!” You laughed, throwing another towel at his head. He darted forward to pull you against him, limbs flailing.

“I spent the last 3 hours trying to make these cookies right, goddamn it! What the fuck, Betty Crocker, I thought I could depend on you!” you moaned tragically, pressing the back of your hand against your forehead dramatically.

He grinned and leaned down to move his lips against yours. You sighed, letting yourself get swept up into the kiss.

“I do actually like them though,” he rumbled, pulling back and pecking you on the cheek.

“Really?” You pouted, unimpressed.

“Yes I do. Do you want me to show you how much?” He smirked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Why yes, Mr. Barton, why don’t you show me?” you beamed, letting him drag you back into the bedroom.

I guess he wasn’t too tired for some hanky-panky.


	2. Black, 2 Sugars, Whip Cream! [WadexReader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:  
> I work at Starbucks and when I asked what name to write on your cup you said “daddy” and winked at me, which would have been so fucking creepy if you weren’t so hot (ambiguous ending, up to the author)
> 
> DeadpoolxReader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requests are open!

\---

“Next!” You hollered, passing another cup to your barista. You glanced down the line quickly before focusing on the next customer shuffling towards your register. Fifteen, maybe twenty more customers before you would be able to take your lunch break. You plastered on a polite smile and took your customer’s order, passing the cup over.

“Ne-“ your breath hitched. The Merc was mumbling to himself, blabbering on and on about the taco stand that had just opened up next door, not noticing that the space in front of him was vacant. It gave you a moment to unabashedly observe him.

Deadpool, the Merc with a Mouth, had been rumored to be flitting through the city for the past week or so fighting crime or whatever with Spider-Man. You had caught a glimpse of him a few days ago, emerging from a 24-hour deli three blocks from your apartment complex. He had half of a bagel hanging out of his mouth as he tried to talk around it, arms filled with bags of Doritos.

 

\--

“And as I was saying,” he rambled to no one but himself, “the fucking universe is huge! Of course there’d be another planet similar to Earth!” He cocked his head to the side, as if listening to someone reply to him. Maybe he had a Bluetooth earpiece on underneath his mask? “No- not like super identical or whatever, but totally safe enough for us to fly over and chill out! Like a vacation Earth!” He continued to munch on his bagel, crumbs falling down his chin. He hadn’t been watching where he was walking, completely engrossed in his conversation with whoever-the-fuck, but the again, neither were you.

You had your headphones in, listening to whatever new pop song was on the radio and went to turn the corner-

You collided into what felt like a sheet of concrete and felt yourself tumbling backwards only to find yourself pressed right back against that concrete. A strong arm gripped your waist while the owner was going a mile a minute.

“Whoa! Totally my bad, too busy listenin’ to Yellow go on about the oxygen levels on Earth v.2 when- …whoa” He glanced down at you, white eye holes widening comically before shooting a salacious grin down at you.

“If I told you your body was drop dead bootylicious, would you hold it against me?” He snickered, pulling his arm back.

“Dear god,” you groaned, shaking your head and moving away from him. Peering down, you noticed that bags and bags of ranch Doritos covered the sidewalk.

“Uh, are these yours?”

“Oh shit!” he exclaimed, “almost forgot about those! Can’t have a Mario Party without snacks!” You shook your head again, grinning before bending down to help him pick up the bags. You couldn’t help but sneak a few peeks at the guy who you just collided into. Covered from head to toe in red and black spandex with a very expressive face, this guy was built like a fucking tank. You couldn’t help but trail your eyes down his thick arms and sculpted chest. Holy shit, this guy has _got_ to be packing. You caught yourself before your train of thought could go any further south, cheeks burning and eyes averting.

“Name’s ‘Pool by the way,” he flashed you a grin, “Deadpool.”

“(Y/N),” you replied, handing him the bags you retrieved. He thanked you before giving you a two-finger salute and going on his merry way. You allowed yourself a fast glimpse at his ass- hot _damn_. You could bounce quarters off that bad boy. You sighed lustfully, making your way down to the quaint little coffee shop a few blocks away.

\--

 

He was still wearing that sinfully tight red and black bodysuit. God, was no part of that body not covered in taut muscle? You cleared your throat, and your filthy mind, before repeating yourself.

“Next on line, please step forward!” You called. He snapped out of his daze and sauntered towards you.

“Hey! Let me get a- whoa! You’re that hot chick I bumped into a few days ago!” He cackled, propping himself against the counter.

“If you don’t mind, sir, I’ve got a huge line of customers, please order your drink,” you mumbled, inclining your head towards the ever-growing line of people.

He just continued to grin and took his fucking time gazing at the menu board behind you.

“Weeeeeeeell,” he sang, “gimme a small black coffee with two sugars and some whip cream.

“Name please?” You replied out of habit, writing his order out on the cup.

His grin only widened before he leaned forward to whisper in your ear.

“ _Daddy._ ”

You dropped the cup, ears burning. You fumbled with the marker as you wrote out another cup, scribbling his name near the bottom so it was difficult to see. Ducking your head, you mumbled his total and returned the appropriate change, never once making eye contact. He cackled even louder before stepping out of the way.

You called for the next customer and tried to cool down your enflamed face. You rang up another three customers before you noticed your barista was drowning in orders. You paged your back-up cashier to the front and quickly started making drinks.

This is why you hated working Monday mornings. Grabbing whatever free cups were remaining, you quickly poured their drinks and moved them over to the pick-up counter.

“Ashley, diet green tea!” You called out, watching a blonde university girl moving forward for her drink.

“David, black no sugar!” He nodded and graciously took his drink. The last cup sat in the center of the counter.

“Deadpool- Black, two sugars, whip cream” You read aloud, refusing to call out the name he had given you. You glanced around to see if he was still even in the sho- that motherfucker. He was seated in the middle table, in the middle of the fucking coffee shop, smirking at you. He was daring you with his eyes to read the name. You called out his order again, glaring right into those smug white eyeholes of his but he only quirked his lips.

“Goddamn it all,” you grumbled to yourself.

“(Y/N), please hurry, I don’t think Adam can hold out on the register alone any longer.” Yvonne mumbled, fluttering around you to finish up her next orders. You heaved a sigh, taking a breath of courage before looking him straight in the eyes. Well, eye holes.

“Black, 2 sugars, whip cream for…” You hesitated as his smirk pulled into a devilish grin. You clenched your fists and gritted your teeth. This job would be the bane of your existence.

“ _Daddy_ , your coffee is ready.” You glared hard at the countertop as you heard the cook practically howl with laughter. You peered up and watched as the fucking Merc took his sweet ass time ambling up to you.

“You know, I wonder how far down that blush goes,” he hummed as he picked up his cup.

“Why don’t you give me a call and find out for yourself, _daddy._ ” You leered. You heard a low groan being pulled from his chest.

“I would love to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild Daddy kink, if you can even call it that. Mentions of the word 'daddy' is all.


	3. Mine [TonyxReader] Part 1/5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Person A is seriously pining after Person B and Person C has had enough. Taking matters into their own hands, Person C shamelessly flirts with Person B so that Person A will make a fucking move already because Jesus Christ, get with the program!  
> A: Tony  
> B: You  
> C: Bucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus, I had no idea how long-winded I got setting this up! If this prompt fill gets to be too long, I'll move it to a separate piece.

\---

_Ding!_

The elevator doors open and you step out, balancing two plates on your arm and holding a glass of water in your other hand.

“JARVIS, can you please open the door for me?” You tilted your head towards the ceiling. The glass door slid open silently as you thanked him, stepping over the threshold into Tony’s workshop. You could hear the crooning sounds of Tony Bennett coasting through the room, occasionally interrupted by the metallic clang of a wrench or power drill. Smiling, you turned the corner and leaned your hip against a table, simply content with watching Tony mumble to himself as his attention fixated on his latest project.

During the last mission, his hand repulsors on the Mark IX had slightly malfunctioned, badly enough that every other blast had wildly curved, unintentionally destroying buildings, cars, and Clint’s bow.

He hummed as he twisted the gauntlet left and right, bobbing his head to the music as it abruptly changed to one of his favourite bands, AC/DC. He still seemed entirely unaware of your presence as he dragged an oil-slicked arm across his forehead, setting down the gauntlet before reaching forward to collect his soldering iron. You couldn’t help but drag an appreciative gaze across his tight shoulders and stretched back. Tony may not be as physically built as the other members of the team, given that his suits were his ‘superpower,’ but you could still see the whipcord muscles of his back contract and release, the tension of restrained power and genius all bundled together into one Anthony Edward Stark.

Before you could allow your thoughts to go further along those tracks, you cleared your throat, alerting him of your presence.

“(Y/N)!” He grinned, placing his iron back onto his workstation. “What brings you down into my humble abode? "

“Figured you can use some lunch, since I didn’t see you at breakfast this morning. Or at dinner last night,” you gave him a pointed look, moving forward to put his water and the two plates down.

He chuckled sheepishly, waving away your admonishing comment.

“You know how I am about food, too distracting and all that jazz. Hey, I should probably look into making, like, food pellets or something that contain enough calories and proteins-“ He began to ramble, looking for a spare sheet of paper to jot his notes down.

“Hey! Don’t you even think about it, Tony,” you pulled the post-it note from his fingers, waving it in front of his face.

“No ifs, ands, or buts. Eat your sandwich and try to not to be a super-genius for five minutes.”

“So you think I’m devilishly handsome and a super-genius?” His eyebrow slid up, quirking his lips as he bit into his turkey and cheese lunch. You rolled your eyes before dragging a chair over from another station and plopping down beside him. He pushed a few things aside to make you some room, unearthing a bag of potato chips from whoknowswhere.

Tony began telling you about his latest upgrades, to the shop, to his repulsor, to Clint’s new very-much-not-burnt-to-a-crisp- _thank_ - _you_ bow, all the while occasionally munching on his sandwich every time he noticed your gaze drop down to it. You nodded along, smiling every now and then when he got a little overexcited and began gesticulating wildly about whatever breakthrough he made. The both of you were aware that you didn’t understand a word he was saying, but nevertheless, you encouraged his bouts of passionate explanations of how the repulsor now had a further lock-on range or how Steve’s shield was to be plated with a metal he still hasn’t quite figured out- “but’s it’s going to be fucking awesome and, like, 400% indestructible!”

You laughed freely, finishing up your lunch and take a sip of his water. He managed to finish his sandwich and the bag of chips during his monologue before a sharp trill broke the relaxed and _warm_ atmosphere you both had developed.

Blinking fast, he didn’t initially react to the sound, but as it repeatedly buzzed on the table, he realized it was his phone.

“Sorry, sweetheart, but I’ve got to take this,” he mumbled, glancing at the caller ID and moving to walk you to the door. You waved him off, collecting the empty plates and decided to leave the half-full glass on the countertop. He murmured an apology before answering the call.

You hummed quietly to yourself as you made your way back to the elevators, missing the sorrowful look the brunet sent your way before replying to Pepper on the phone.

\--

“Alright Clint, it’s your turn to choose the movie,” Bruce went over to grab the TV remote. You and Bucky were in charge of heating up the popcorn and Steve was grabbing bottles of soda from the fridge. You opened a finished bag of popcorn and struggled to reach the large bowl in the cabinet.

“You shut your mouth, Buchanan, if you know what’s good for you,” you barked when you heard him try to hide a snicker.

“It’s not my fault you’re three feet tall,” he snickered, walking over and easily reaching the bowl over you. You huffed, grabbing the bowl and playfully shoving him out of the way. You prepped the popcorn and ambled over to the living room.

Friday movie nights were your favourite. Steve had initially started them to gather some insight pop culture references and was thrilled when he noticed some blockbuster movies from the ‘20s were digitally re-mastered and way better quality for him to watch. It also served as a ‘team building exercise.’ It was difficult at first, to decide what movie to watch and how everyone responded to the movies or having their personal space invaded but, over time, the team actually did bond well enough for you to drape yourself over Bucky’s lap because he stole your goddamn seat on the long couch.

Clint pulled up Netflix and was skimming through the categories as Bucky brought over the rest of the snacks. You stole a few pieces of M&Ms from a bowl, quietly munching on them as you listened to Steve and Bucky reminisce, yet again, how television had been so different in their time.

 "Hey, where’s Tony?” Steven looked around and didn’t see the engineer.

 “He’s probably still in the workshop,” Bruce replied, wiping down his glasses.

“JARVIS, what’s Tony up to?” You asked, getting up to get a drink.

“Sir is still working on his hand repulsor, Ms. (L/N).”

“Thanks JARVIS,” you turned toward the group before heading to the elevator, “I’ll go get him.” Steve hummed, nodding his head before turning his attention back to the group.

 You instructed JARVIS to take you down to Tony’s workshop again, opening the door to hear him angrily muttering to himself.

 “How the fuck is this not fitting?” He groaned, running an irritated hand through this hair.

 “Tones, are you gonna watch the movie with us?” You inquired, making your way over to his table.

 “(Y/N)!” He shot you an exhausted grin, “I’m on the cusp of a breakthrough! I’ll have to pass this time, honeybun.”

 You looked at him, unimpressed.

 “Tony, I was asking to be polite. Get your ass upstairs.”

 “But cupcake, I’m almost done!” He whined.

 “Almost my ass, Stark, you’re never ‘almost done’ with anything,” you huffed, trying not to laugh.

 “Really though! I’ve just got to adjust these wires-” He started, turning back to his table. Oh no, he wasn’t to get away that easy! You pulled his seat back and started pushing him towards the elevator. He let out an undignified squawk, clutching the seat and hysterically laughing.

 “Anthony Edward, you’re going to watch the movie with us or so help me God, I won’t bring you down anymore sandwiches. For a month!” You threatened.

 “Oh no, how am I to go on with your turkey and cheddar subs!” He gasped dramatically, falling back into his chair as you approached the glass doors.

 “Come on, Tony, watch the movie and then come back down if you want,” you bargained, crossing your arms. He tilted his head, contemplating.

 “Besides,” you added softly, “who’s gonna give me a hilarious running commentary on how fake and CGI everything looks?” You knew you were playing dirty when you hit with your puppy eyes.

 “Fine,” he sighed, getting up and pushing the chair away, “How am I supposed to say no to that face?” He made a show of dragging his feet and huffing all the way to the elevator. You just grinned, tugging on his arm before stepping in.

The movie had already started by the time you guys got back up; it was some Liam Neeson movie. Big surprise.

Clint whipped his head around when as he heard the both of you approach the living room, smirking wickedly at you before nodding to the only seats left, apart from the carpeted floor. The love seat, fantastic.

 You shot him a scathing glare, hoping the dark would mask your pink cheeks. Tony was none the wiser, ambling over to the 2-seater after pilfering a soda from the table. He gestured for you to come over and sit with him.

 As enthralling as Liam Neeson and his heroic antics to rescue his daughter from a human trafficking ring, your eyes started to droop. You stifled a yawn as Tony turned to murmur in your ear about continuity errors and disappearing extras. Your face burned at the intimacy of his lips, mere inches from yours.

 He continued to mumble funny one-liners every now and again, his chest swelling with pride, with warmth, _with love_ , at your little puffs of soft laughter. He reclined, draping his arm along the back of the couch, relaxed and pliant. You sighed, sinking further into the cushions as your eyelids began to fall. He inclined his head towards yours with gentle eyes and a soft smile, asking if you wanted to go to bed. You shook your head lightly, closing the distance between your head and his shoulder. He shifted down a bit so you were able to snuggle comfortably into his side. Your fingers loosely held his arm, letting out a small, satisfied sound, as you finally got comfortable. Your eyes met his and you gave him tender smile.

 He kept your gaze for only a moment before focusing back on the television, chest tight with emotions he hasn’t come to terms with quite yet. You bury your nose into his neck and, within moments, you’re breathing mellows into a steady pattern. Tony sneaks a look down at your sleeping face, throat choked with such _fond affection_ that he’s at a loss for what to do.

 He tightens his arm around your shoulders, thumb caressing your arm as he stares at the screen with a blank look, mind flying through a thousand thoughts all at once.

‘ _God, what do I do now?’_


	4. Mine [TonyxReader] Part 2/5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Mine [TonyxReader]
> 
> Prompt: Person A is seriously pining after Person B and Person C has had enough. Taking matters into their own hands, Person C shamelessly flirts with Person B so that Person A will make a fucking move already because Jesus Christ, get with the program!  
> A: Tony  
> B: You  
> C: Bucky

\---

“Tony, seriously man, when are you finally going to ask her out?” Clint rolled his eyes.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Tony sniffed, taking a swig of his Coke.

Clint groaned, stuffing his face into a throw pillow.

“I- uh, I normally wouldn’t intrude on anyone else’s relationship but he has a point,” Steve chided.

“Seriously, no idea what you guys are talking about,” Tony was determined to remain aloof, eyes trained on the screen. Bucky hummed, quickly coming up with a plan.

“So Tin Man, what you’re saying is that you wouldn’t mind if I ask her out?” Bucky asked nonchalantly. He looked over and grinned at the genius. Tony’s arm reflexively tightened around your sleeping shoulders. You nuzzled your cheek against his neck. His breath hitched quietly before smoothing out his face.

“Be my guest, Terminator,” he growled. Multiple groans filled the air as everyone apart from Tony rolled their eyes.

“At least this will speed things along,” Nat whispered to the archer. Clint nodded.

“It’ll open his fucking eyes, whether he likes it or not.”

\---

You groaned, rolling over and hissing, pulling away from the cold spot on your bed. Wait…bed? You sat up. You were still fully dressed from yesterday, sans shoes. When…? And who? You shook your head, ambling over to the bathroom to get your day started.

Changing into a plain tee and simple jogger pants, you made your way to the kitchen for some coffee. Glancing at the clock, you notice that it’s only 6:42am.

“Shit, why the fuck am I conscious?” You mumbled to yourself, starting up the two coffeemakers. Might as well start coffee for everyone else.

You tinkered around the kitchen, washing dishes and wiping down the counter before deciding to make some pancakes. Collecting your ingredients and utensils, you get cracking.

You fix your coffee as the pancakes sizzle, reclining against the island. You transfer the first batch onto a clean plate and get started on the next, sprinkling in a handful of chocolate chips. Tony loved chocolate chips in his pancakes.

The elevator doors opened, revealing Steve and Bucky dressed in workout clothes. They seemed deeply enthralled in their conversation, not noticing your presence. You continued cooking, moving Tony’s pancakes to another plate.

“Oh, hey (Y/N)!” Steve smiled, getting himself a glass of water.

“Good morning boys,” you replied, starting another batch. “Feel like having pancakes?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind,” Steve seated himself at the island. Bucky sidled up beside you, attempting to steal a chocolate chip pancake. You lightly smacked his hand, moving the plate.

“Ah, ah! These are Tony’s,” you placed it on your other side.

“Aw come on, doll! Just one?” He pleaded. You shook your head.

“I’ll make you some, take a seat,” you playfully pushed him to the island.

“So pushy, I love dominant women,” he grinned wolfishly. You flushed, shoving him a bit harder, walking back to the stove.

“Asshat,” you mumbled.

“Super hearing, (Y/N),” the brunet reminded you. You flipped him the bird over your shoulder.

“Am I interrupting something?” A tense voice chimed in. Tony looked ruffled and exhausted, going by his bloodshot eyes.

“Hey Tones, I made your favourite,” you smiled, nodding at his plate. The skin around his eyes tightened as he shot a glare at the winter soldier, walking over to you.

“Thanks, sugar,” he grunted, grabbing his plate and started to make his coffee.

The atmosphere in the room grew tense as you finished up Steve and Bucky’s pancakes.

“Breakfast is served,” you sang, handing them their plates.

“Thanks, doll,” Bucky winked. You rolled your eyes, cheeks heating as you gathered your breakfast and sat across from them.

“(Y/N),” Bucky started, biting into his fresh pancake, “got any plans today?” You heard a clatter at the sink; Tony had accidentally dropped his spoon.

“Not particularly, Phil gave me the day off, why?”

“We were about to head out for a run, wanna come with?” Tony inwardly sneered, grip tightening on his mug. _Don’t you fucking dare_.

“Sure! I just need to grab a few things from my room first,” you agreed excitedly.

“I’ve got a briefing with Director Fury at 9,” Steve chirped. “We need to be back before then.”

“Sure thing, Stevie,” Bucky nodded before sliding a glance at the silent billionaire. Tony had gone completely rigid, trying his damnedest to look unaffected and nonchalant.

“So doll,” Bucky started.

“Yeah, Buck?”

“Steve was telling me about an exhibit not too far from here that has our old uniforms, and I haven’t gotten around to seeing it. Come with me?” You heard a crash behind you but before you could turn around, Tony was storming out of the kitchen.

“What’s his problem?” You asked yourself.

“His royal princess usually has his panties in a twist about one thing or the other,” Bucky chuckled. You shook your head fondly.

“Anyway, sure thing Buck, sounds like it’ll be fun! And, you can tell me how wildly inaccurate everything is.”

“That’s the plan, baby doll.”

You all finished your meals and Steve offered to wash up since you did all the cooking. You hurried off to your room to throw on a sports bra underneath your tee and grab your running shoes, keys, and wallet. The three of you met in the lobby and set off for Central Park.

\---

“Sam kept complaining to me that you’d lap him three times over,” you chuckled, looking back at the two soldiers. By some crazy miracle, you had managed to pull ahead. Steve grinned, catching up to you.

“Wanna race back? We’ve got 15 minutes,” the blond challenged. You raised your eyebrows.

“What’re the stakes?”

“Loser has to come to the winner’s beck and call?”

“Sure,” you beamed. You both take a quick breather beforehand.

“Ready?” Steve smirked, pushing his hair away from his face.

“On your mark.” You both slide into the runner’s position. You shifted your weight to the tips of your fingers and toes. He counted down.

“ _One."_

You both took off like rockets down the pavement. Pedestrians ducked out of your way as you vaulted over a fire hydrant. Steve dodged a group of teenagers playing Frisbee only to be caught behind a slew of mothers with baby carriages. He was visibly flustered, sputtering apologies and politely stepping aside for them to pass. Peals of laughter escaped you as you took the lead. _Big mistake._

You lost precious oxygen from laughing so hard, having no choice but to sag against a light post. It only took a moment but Steve whizzed right by you. You cursed, pushing yourself upright and struggled to catch up. He was already a good three blocks ahead, fuck!

You were about ready to give up when you felt a cold arm grab you and spin you around.

“Hop on,” Bucky ordered, facing his back towards you. You let out breathless, high-pitched giggles as you clambered onto his back, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

“Let’s go!” He bolted forward, skating around a gaggle of tourists.

“Just fucking go on the street!” He grinned at your instructions, running onto the bike lane. You both quickly made up for lost time, only half a block away from Steve. You playfully tap his side with your leg, like a horse, urging him forward.

“Come on, Barnes! Are you gonna let little Stevie show you up?” You goaded him. He snorted loudly, getting a firmer grip on your thighs before practically flying forward. You roar with laughter, clinging for dear life as he overtook Steve and skidded to a stop mere inches from the doors of Stark Tower. You heard Steve stammer unintelligibly as he tumbled to a stop in front of you.

“Th-That’s cheating!” Steve panted, bracing his hands on his knees. You were still shaking with giggles, resting your forehead between Bucky’s shoulder blades, the both of you trembling with exhaustion.

“Buck, you can let me down now,” you breathed, loosening your grip around his shoulders. He eased his grip on your thighs as you slid down his back, gripping his metal arm to hold yourself upright.

“You n-never said I couldn’t get help, S-Steve,” you wheezed. The three of you took a few moments to catch your breaths.

“It’s still cheating- that goes for you too, Bucky! How could you betray me?” Steve threw his hands in the air, appalled.

“What can I say, I’ve got a soft spot for my baby girl,” Bucky beamed, sliding his bionic arm around your waist. You leaned against him for support, grinning at Steve.

“Fine, fine, I concede. You win, Cap.” The blond sniffed haughtily, scratching his head. The three of you stumbled back into the building to take a quick but well deserved shower.

You and Steve didn’t notice the zooming security camera following your moves. Bucky turned, just as you guys were entering the elevator, and winked straight at it as he leaned down to whisper something in your ear.

Tony snarled, shoving all his paperwork off his desk as he watched the live feed from the front door security camera. Bucky was **_not_** going to get away with this. You were _his_ girl, goddamn it. **_His_**.


	5. Mine [TonyxReader] Part 3/5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of Mine [TonyxReader]
> 
> Prompt: Person A is seriously pining after Person B and Person C has had enough. Taking matters into their own hands, Person C shamelessly flirts with Person B so that Person A will make a fucking move already because Jesus Christ, get with the program!  
> A: Tony  
> B: You  
> C: Bucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much progress as of yet but things with Tony will definitely pick up next chapter!

\---

You roughly toweled dried your hair, wringing out the last droplets of water before throwing the soaked towel into the hamper. Throwing your hair into a messy ponytail, you dressed in a pair of sweatpants and another plain tee, making your way into the living room. Another cup of coffee sounded fantastic right about now.

You hummed to yourself, fixing your coffee and sighing in contentment. There wasn’t much better in life than a perfect cup of coffee.

“So, doll, when did you wanna head out?” Bucky shuffled into the kitchen, grabbing himself a bottle of water. You opened your mouth to reply when the rest of the team ambled into the kitchen. They all mumbled their ‘good mornings’ and zeroed in on the coffee maker. You and Bucky stepped back to let them scuffle over coffee mugs and cereal.

“Anyway, doll, time we’re headed out on our _date_?” the brunet repeated, shooting a look at the genius. Tony’s back stiffened when he heard the word ‘ _date_.’ You flushed again, taking a long sip of your coffee. Bucky let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head.

“I’m just teasing you, (Y/N),” he smirked, “But did you still want to go with me?”

“Of course, Buck,” you nodded, “any time is fine with me. Maybe we’ll go before lunch?”

“Sound like a plan,” he agreed, plopping himself down on the couch. He patted the seat beside him in an open invitation. You made a move to go sit with him- that was until Tony unceremoniously draped himself across your shoulders.

“(Y/N),” he whined, “make me coffee.”

“You had a cup, like, 2 hours ago!” you giggled, turning your full attention towards him. Tony went on about something or another but you couldn’t hear anything over the _thud thud thud_ of your heart. ‘He’s going to be the end of me,’ you thought. Tony raised his eyebrow at you.

“Uh, sorry, what did you say?” You mumbled, embarrassed. Tony shook his head, smiling fondly.

“I asked if you wanted to come down and help me with some stuff later, just sound-boarding mainly. Helps me clear my thoughts and stuff,” he repeated. You nodded, quickly agreeing.

“Sure, when did-“ The elevator doors slid open and Steve strode out. 

“Team, listen up,” he bellowed, catching everyone’s exhausted attention. “Director Fury expects us to be in the conference room in 15 minutes, emergency mission brief and we need everyone available.” There was a flurry of activity as Thor attempted to shovel all of his cereal into his mouth, bowl and all. Everyone rushed off into their rooms to get properly dressed and ready for the briefing as you settled into the couch in the living room and turned on Netflix. Might as well take this time to catch up on some Walking Dead.

You weren’t a member of the Avengers, only a close friend. You were really a SHIELD agent, hired from the US Army 5 months ago. Agent Coulson and Natasha were looking to recruit agents when they happened upon your camp. You were doing routine firing practice when they approached you to come with them. Apparently you had the highest marks of all the camps they had visited so far, easily beating out the other branches of military. They had their eye set on someone from the Marines but whoever it was didn’t have nearly as much experience with hand-to-hand combat as you did. Hell, according to Nat, you could give her a run for her money! Well, on a good day at least. And with her arm tied behind her back. Anyway, moving on. Ever since your recruitment and integration into SHIELD, you were constantly exposed to the Avengers team. 

You quickly made friends with the quiet, reserved, and hilariously dry-witted Natasha after proving yourself to her during a sparring match. Next was Clint, due to your shared humor. Thor was just nice, polite, and devastatingly loud to everyone he met was it wasn’t hard to get along with him. Bruce had always been nice, showing you around the tower when you had first been hired. Steve and Bucky were a little harder to get along with. Surprised? Steve, the perfect gentleman, had taken time to wear down and be comfortable enough to share private jokes and childhood stories with. Bucky though, he’s your closet friend.

You had met on one of his bad days, days where he couldn’t remember where he was or if he was even still human. The moment you had met him, he had his sights set on taking you down as an intruder. You surprised the fuck out of him, and the rest of the team when you pinned him down after he lunged at you. Hey, you may be short but it didn’t mean you weren’t _damn good_ at your job. He blinked up at you, eyes clearing before grinning and introducing himself. You guys have been nearly inseparable ever since.

Tony…he was complicated. Mr. Ladies-Man and you did not get along at first, at all. He was the perfect picture of an arrogant, conceited, and pompous rich asshole who knew he could get whatever the fuck he wanted. It took a few weeks but you knocked him off his fucking peg when you sniped eight Chitauri aliens that had him surrounded and cornered. He humbled himself enough to thank you, and, well, sparks flew. The moment he opened himself up to you, you were fucking **_gone_**. It only took a few weeks before Tony invited you to live with the team. You just couldn’t say no. 

You mused over your memories as the team bide you adieu. You waved them off, finally concentrating on the show. Holy shit, was that walker just about to get Daryl?

\---

Directory Fury was brief with his…brief. A tip came in that the Russian Ambassador that was visiting Manhattan for the weekend was to be assassinated. If that were to happen, Russia would not hesitate to nuke the fuck out of the US. It was of the upmost importance that the team secure the assailant and keep the Ambassador out of harm’s way. It wouldn’t seem suspicious for the entire team to be there since Tony’s company had it’s hands in clean energy and the gala the Ambassador was attending was concerned with environmental change. The tip also included a rough sketch of the supposed assailant.

The plan was to have Nat seduce the guy and incapacitate him as everyone else made sure the party was going smoothly.

“Not that I don’t think Nat would do a terrific job,” Bucky interrupted, “but don’t you think we should have another female agent just in case Nat doesn’t catch his fancy?” Fury mulled it over for a moment. “Who do you have in mind?”

“Agent (L/N), sir. She’s been with the team long enough to work fluidly with us. She’s also extremely skilled in combat fighting, if things were to get escalated or she couldn’t knock out the assassin.” Fury looked over to Coulson.

“Coulson, your thoughts?”

“I have to agree with Bucky on this one sir, (L/N) would make a great fit. She’s bonded with the team and all of her combat students have shown at least a 30% rise in their hand-to-hand skills,” Phil concluded.

Fury contemplated briefly. “How do the rest of you feel?” Everyone nodded in agreement. 

“In my professional opinion, I feel that Agent (L/N) is highly qualified for this mission,” Steve chimed in. Fury nodded, instructing Coulson to give you a quick briefing after this meeting was adjourned. The Director gave the team a quick background on the assailant before dismissing them. The gala was happening tonight.

\---

You managed to get caught up on the Walking Dead and were venturing into House M.D. when the team returned. Agent Coulson strode over to you and pulled you aside. He tersely briefed you on the mission and handed you a copy of the assailant sketch.

“When do we go?”

“21:00 hours,” Coulson replied, taking back the sketch.

“That leaves us only 3 hours!”

“Well, it _is_ an emergency,” he chuckled dryly. You rolled your eyes but nodded, bidding him farewell before rushing off to your room to shower and get dressed.

\---

“I don’t have anything to wear,” you sighed, riffling through your closet for the third time. How the fuck didn’t you have any dresses? At all! You ran a jittery hand through your hair before pulling on sweats and walking to Natasha’s room. Maybe she had something you could possibly squeeze into. 

“Nat?” She opened the door as she was putting in her earrings.

“Why the fuck am I going on this mission if you’re gonna look like that?” You asked honestly because _hot damn._ She chuckled, ushering you in. Really though, with a skintight black dress and a body like that, how were you even supposed to compete?

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)?”

“I’ve, uh-“ you stuttered, embarrassed. “I don’t have any dresses and was-“

“Say no more,” she interrupted you, shuffling through her closet before pulling out a navy blue number. It was stunning yet simple. It was just long enough to be decent, yet short enough to turn heads. And this was going to be wasted on you. 

Nat insisted you change in her bathroom since you guys had only an hour and a half left to get ready and go. You slipped out of your ratty sweats and had some trouble sliding into the thin but stretchy dress. The hem reached just about the mid-leg. You struggled to pull the zipper up all the way before carefully flattening down the sides. Holy shit, you looked smokin’ _hot_.

You exited the bathroom and she hurried you over to the bed so she could apply your makeup.

“I’m blessed to have you in my life,” you tried to keep your face still as she put on your eyeliner. “I have no fucking idea how to deal with makeup.” She said that she’d teach you her ways before smudging some eye shadow across your eyelids. She puttered around you, fixing your hair and finishing off with some neutral lipstick. She moved you in front of the mirror.

“What do you think?”

“Nat, you’re a miracle worker.” You couldn’t believe your eyes. All dolled up and lookin’ fierce, you both were gonna knock this guy off his feet. Nat’s cool exterior slipped, revealing a small smile before she hurried off to get the both of you some shoes. Clutching the black heels she handed you, you quickly stepped into them and you returned to your room to strap on your weapon holsters. Thankfully you didn’t encounter anyone in the hallway as you ran back to your room. You hid two knives on either thigh and sheathed a small dagger into the holster in your bra.

“Time to go, team!” You heard Steve bellow from the living room. You took a deep breath and looked yourself over before leaving the room. You smoothed out the dress in front of your stomach, turning from side to side.

‘You know what? Fuck that,’ you mentally scolded yourself. ‘I look fantastic, and I feel fantastic. The team vouched for me and I have a job to do. Enough of this self-consciousness. I’m damn good at my job and I’m about to prove that to them, again.’ You gave yourself a small internal pep talk before joining the rest of the team in the living room. You heard Thor’s booming laugh as you approached the group before a hush befell them. 

“Are we ready to go?” You asked, smiling tightly, hoping you weren’t betraying how nervous you were. Everyone’s eyes were on you, Nat looked proud.

“(Y/N),” Tony stuttered, “you look-” he failed to finish his sentence, eyes wide. 

“Baby doll, you look stunning,” Bucky replied softly, smiling at you. He knew this wasn’t what you normally wore and how uncomfortable you were. He walked over to drape his arm around your shoulders. Your cheeks dusted pink, eyes averting as you mumbled your thanks.

“I must agree with the man of winter!” Thor grinned widely, “You look quite exquisite, Ms. (Y/N)!” You smiled back, thanking him before Steve snapped out of it and gave a quick rundown of the plan, again. 

You and Nat were to scope out the assailant and, one by one, approach and flirt with him. If Nat failed, it was up to you. Tony and Bruce were to be cruising through the room, talking with scientists and benefactors. Bucky and Steve would be watching the exits. Thor and Clint would be at the bar, keeping an eye on the Ambassador. You guys shuffled into the elevator and were met at the lobby by Happy and a limo.

“Alright team, it’s show time.”


	6. Mine [TonyxReader] Part 4/5

As the limo pulled up to the building, everyone slipped on their ear pieces. After a quick, and successful, mic check, you all piled out and glided towards the entrance. Subtly nodding to each other, you all broke off into pairs. You and Nat sauntered to the bar, Thor and Clint trailing after the both of you. You and Nat sat at opposite ends of the long bar, the boys seated in the center. From the corner of you eyes, you noted Tony and Bruce mingling with the crowd smoothly.

Ordering a rum and coke, you nursed your drink, reclining against the bar as you scoped out the space. Four known exits in the main hall, with two down each of the eight corridors. Shit, this place was fucking huge.

“The Ambassador’s here,” Steve alerted. It would be pretty fucking hard not to notice him, striding into the room with a thick red cape and all.

“Who the fuck even wears capes anymore?” You hear Clint murmur. You snorted into your drink, taking a slow sip. You watched as Tony introduced himself to the Ambassador, roping him into conversation. So far, so good.

“Assassin, entering from the fourth exit,” Bucky grunted. You and Nat turned towards him. Blond, tall, broad shouldered, and solidly built, he strode into the room. Hopefully he’ll go down quietly. Nat whispered that she was going to strike before knocking back her drink and approaching him with a sultry smile. He was instantly smitten.

“Excellent, Widow’s got him,” Steve commented. You visually relaxed, almost sighing in sheer relief. You failed to notice a tall presence by your side as you turn back to the bar.

“Hello madam, what is a lady of such class like yourself doing here all alone?” A deeply accented voice asked you. Fan-fucking-tastic. You whip around only to be confronted by the Russian Ambassador. You plastered on a fake smile.

“Why hello, I don’t believe we’ve met,” you coyly hold out your hand. He chuckled, pressing a kiss against it.

“Viktor Korenev, and you miss?” His eyes bore into yours.

“(Y/N, L/N),” you smile. He held onto your hand for just a touch too long. Great.

\---

Tony glowered as he watched Ambassador Viktor cruise off in your direction.

“Tony, this is getting really old,” Bruce grumbled. The billionaire tore his eyes away from you to look at his friend.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Brucie,” he denied, finishing off his whiskey. He placed his empty tumbler onto a passing tray.

“Tony, I’m your friend, be frank with me,” Bruce sighed, sipping on his water. The taller brunet hesitated before feigning nonchalance.

“Bruce, really, there’s nothing going on between us.”

Bruce snorted into his glass. “Right, because you don’t look at her like she put the moon in the sky. For a genius, you’re not all that bright.” Tony opened his mouth to take offense.

“You’re too busy denying your feelings for (Y/N) that you don’t notice that she looks at you the same way.”

“No way,” Tony huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back against a stone pillar.

“Tony, you’re going to lose her if you don’t accept that you genuinely care about her.”

“…Why would she spare me the time of day? I’m just an old, drunk, womanizer,” he sneered in self-deprecation.

“She loves you, Tony. Haven’t you noticed that she takes the time to make sure you eat at least one meal a day? She’s always talking about you and you’re the same exact way! If you’re not going to do anything about this mutual affection, I’m afraid Bucky’s going to woo her.” Bruce warned. Tony mulled over what his friend said. He trusted Bruce’s judgment, knowing his friend wouldn’t lie to protect his feelings. The brunet was going to reply when he notice Viktor getting a little too close for his comfort.

 

\---

“Would you like to accompany me tonight, Ms. (Y/N)?” You smile lightly, poised to decline when Tony swooped in a saved you.

“Ah, Ambassador! I see you’ve met my breathtakingly stunning girlfriend,” Tony forcibly grinned, winding a possessive arm around your waist. You quickly leaned into him, fingers delicately lacing around his. You beamed up at the genius, pressing a soft kiss into his jaw.

“Miss me, babe?” he whispered, winking at you.

“I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t feel the need to flirt with every women in here,” you joked lightly, turning your attention back on the Ambassador. He looked rumpled and quite aggravated. _Thank God._

“Ms. (Y/N) is your date, Anthony?” He rumbled, eyes weary. You felt Tony’s grip tighten as he pressed you closer against him.

“If she’ll have me,” he grinned. Viktor grunted, excusing himself to pursue someone else. The tension rolled off the both of you in waves.

“He literally propositioned me to spend the night with him,” you shivered in disgust. Tony grimaced, ordering the both of you a drink. You barely heard him but, you _did_ hear him growl, ‘ _Over my dead body_.’

You both lingered by the bar, him never leaving your side for more than a moment. After a few minutes of silence, he began to murmur fake dialogue between the partygoers.

“Oh Mr. Smith, you shouldn’t have! I can’t marry you!” He mocked in a high-pitch tone. “But Agatha, you’re the love of my life! I can’t stand to live another day without you!” His voice deepened comically. You both giggled, whispering back and forth for a majority of the night, keeping an eye on the Ambassador.

“(Y/N), I think he’s going to approach you,” Steve rumbled. What? You and Tony looked over at Nat and the assassin. He was staring right at you. You quickly averted your eyes, turning in towards Tony as he felt him stiffen. “I thought Nat was handling it.”

“He’s been looking over at (Y/N) since the Ambassador approached her,” Bucky inserted. Fuck _ass_.

“He’s making his way over, Widow, what happened?” Steve questioned.

“He’s completely distracted, I couldn’t hold him,” she mumbled, ambling back to the bar. Fuck! You knocked back your drink as he approached you and Tony.

“Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met,” the blond purred. You throw him a tense smile.

“(Y/N, L/N), pleasure to meet you,” you hold out your hand. He places a lingering kiss on the back of your hand.

“Adrian Elstad, believe me, the pleasure is mine.” Tony moved forward, stepping in front of you.

“Tony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries,” he announced. Adrian barely spared him a glance, keeping his eyes on yours. Your face burned, looking away. What the fuck?

“Well, Mr. Elstad, what brings you here?” Tony insisted on taking his attention off of you.

“As the Ambassador of Norway, it would look good to the media if we appear at a gala for Environmental change, yes?” Wait, what? Your eyes widened. _Norway was trying to take out Russia?_ You heard Steve sharply inhale over the ear piece.

“Shit,” Bucky grumbled. “(Y/N), you need to capture him alive. Steve’s calling Fury right now. Tony, get out of there and let her do her job.”

Tony withdraw his arm with great reluctance, pecking on you on the cheek before excusing himself. Adrian seated himself beside you, buying you a drink. You watched as Tony enthusiastically draped his arms around two women, speaking animatedly. You heave a deep sigh.

“Seems like your boyfriend has found alternative company,” the blond remarked.

“He has a knack for it,” you reply bitterly, finding that you didn’t need to lie. _I am not drunk enough for this._

“Would you like to make him jealous?” He smirked, leaning closer to you. You tilted your head, pretending to think.

“I don’t know, I’m not that kind of girl.”

“Am I not agreeable to you? Just one dance,” he insisted. You took a long sip, sliding your eyes over to Tony and his new interests. You nod your head.

“Just one dance,” you reiterated. He shot you a dazzling smile, gently taking your hand and leading you to the center of the room. He placed his arms around your waist and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. You both swayed to the soothing sounds of the orchestra. He noticed Tony looking over and firmly pressed you against him.

“Looks like he’s finally taken notice,” Adrian hummed, grinning down at you. You played along and smiled, glancing at the genius. You leaned up and whispered in his ear, “How’s about we take this party somewhere private?” He cocked an eyebrow at your request.

“I’m either coming home with you or going home alone,” you bargained. He smirked, half-lidded eyes practically undressing you as he hurried you down a corridor. Opening a door, he guided you in, locking the door behind him and trapping you against the wall.

“The moment I stepped into the room, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you,” he groaned, hands gripping your hips as he pressed himself against you. “You looked so fucking sexy, I wanted to take you right there, against the bar with everyone watching so they knew they couldn’t fucking have you, not like I’m about to.” You shoved him onto the bed, straddling his hips and grinding down. Head thrown back, he moaned, hands sliding up your dress. You bent down, your pelvis moving against his in slow circles as you retrieved a small syringe from your bra. Securing it in your palm, you leaned back up and slide your hand into his hair, tugging him up to meet your lips. Before he made contact though, you stabbed the syringe into his neck, pressing down and sedating him. His eyes widened, struggling for all of five seconds before falling back limp.

“Corridor 4, room 231,” You paged, getting off the bed. You wrapped the syringe in a paper towel as Steve and Bucky entered the room.

“Out like a light,” you replied, smoothing down your dress. With an arm around either shoulder, Steve and Bucky hauled him up and out of the building into an awaiting car. They were headed back to SHIELD HQ. You returned to the main hall, meeting up with the others and leaving.

“Where’s Tony?” You asked, not seeing him as you waited for Happy to come around with the limo.

“Left as soon as Elstad took you into the room,” Nat replied, smirking. Shit, was he upset?

The ride was silent when you returned. Bidding the others goodnight, you kicked off your heels and walked back to your room barefoot. You needed a hot shower and a long nap.

You didn’t turn on the lights as you threw the shoes in a corner and went to unzip your dress.

“Did you have sex with him?” The gruff voice scared the goddamn shit out of you.

“What the fuck! Tony?” You squinted your eyes. His face looked ragged, seated on the edge of your bed.

“Tony, what are you doing here?”

“Answer the question,” he barked, fists clenched at his sides. He looked absolutely awful.

“Of course not Tony, why would I?” You mumble, walking over to him. You stepped in front of him and he tilted his head towards yours. His eyes flashed.

“ ** _Good_**.”


	7. Lil' Fucker [BuckyxReader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request from RetroChocolate: Could I maybe have a fic where reader is several months pregnant and bucky is the Dad and he's super excited and protective and it's very fluffy, please!!
> 
> Sorry it's so short but I hope you like it!

\---

Children bustled through the street, a nice warm breeze ruffling through half-dying trees, a gentle swirling tornado of faded colors. Peals of laughter echoed through the village as masked neighbours, kids and adults alike, paraded down the sidewalk in their costumes. The setting sun brushed against the backs of many, urging them to finish their trick-or-treating before it grew too cold. In the third house on Silver Road, you hurried to pour yet _another_ bag of candies into the large bowl by the front door; your doorbell had been chiming non-stop since noon. You heard a crash in the kitchen, followed by Clint’s hysterical laughter.

“Tony’s fine,” Bucky supplied, coming around the corner to help you hold the bowl. You chuckled, shaking your head and opening the door.

“Trick or treat!” A gaggle of children sang. You grinned, planting your hands on your hips.

“Well, hello there! I wasn’t expecting to see two Captain Americas, Hulk, Thor, and a group of ghosts!” The tallest Cap smiled bashfully, adjusting the strap on his plastic shield. He noticed your shirt, smiling wider.

“I saw you on TV!” He exclaimed, pointing at you. “You’re Captain America’s girlfriend! You went with him to see a movie!” He boasted, beaming proudly to the other children. They looked at him with awe before turning back to you with bright eyes.

You laughed, shaking your head, seeing Bucky’s fingers tighten on the bowl. You picked a few chocolate bars and dropped them into the awaiting candy buckets.

  
“No, I’m not his girlfriend,” you corrected, handing tall Cap a snickers bar.

“But you guys were, like, smiling and whispering and stuff!” He insisted.

As Captain America, Steve was obligated to be somewhat of a public figure; going to award ceremonies and red carpet events. He was forced to attend a premiere screening of a movie called ‘Not Another Teen Movie.’ He asked you to come along because he heard you mention to Bucky how similar the lead actor was to the blond super soldier. As for the whispering, Steve was incredibly bored and was retelling a story about when he and buck used to sneak into the theatres and the brunet kept trying to persuade him into one of the adult theatres.

You felt a possessive cold arm wind around your waist. You rolled your eyes playfully, feeling his hand lightly press against your pregnant belly.

“Steve and I are just good friends. My boyfriend, though, is the Winter Soldier.” You patted his bare steel arm, watching as the kids followed your gaze, jaws dropping in shock. Bucky smiled, nodding.

“No way…” Tall Cap gasped, eyes jumping between the two of you. “But you’re wearing a Captain America shirt!”

“It’s Halloween!” You laughed. “The Winter Soldier here is dressed as Thor!”

Tony had decided that instead of dressing up in random costumes, that everyone should draw for each others’ outfits. You and Bucky drew Cap and Thor, respectively. You ushered the children off your stoop, waving them goodbye. Bucky led you back inside, hand steadfast on your bloated stomach. He pressed his lips to your hairline.

“Little brat thought you were Steve’s girl,” he grumbled.

“You’re going a little green around the edges, hun,” you teased, stopping him at the doorway to the living room. You brushed back the loose strands that managed to slip out of his ponytail. His eyes softened, holding your hips gently. You smoothed down the straps of his cape, brushing your fingertips along his shoulders.

“How did I ever get so lucky,” he whispered. You hummed, gently pressing your lips against his. He cupped the back of your head tenderly, fingers sliding into your hair as he angled your head to deepen the kiss. A loud cough came from the living room.  
“Keep it in your pants, Terminator. She’s already pregnant. Give the poor girl a break, she’s gotta pop this one out before you make another one,” Tony joked, moving past you to get into the kitchen. He squeaked by, adjusting himself for the umpteenth time. The Widow suit was _very_ formfitting.

Bucky snorted but you knew he was smirking with pride. He loved getting the chance to show you off, especially now that you were pregnant. You pecked him on the cheek before stepping into the living room just in time to see Thor shove his arm into a pastel cardigan fourteen sizes too small for him. He barely even fit his hand.

“Who there buddy, don’t rip my sweater now!” You quickly rescued the stretched garment.

“My apologies, Lady of Winter,” he rumbled, settling back onto the couch.

“Anthony had insisted that I adorn my entire wardrobe to properly celebrate this eve of Hallows!” the god bellowed, pulling at the straining material around his thighs. Thor had ended up pulling your name. Being a schoolteacher, you didn’t really have a uniform or anything so you chose his outfit. Thor was squeezed into floral dress and was trying to fit his arms into a pale blue cardigan. Tony took particular joy in shopping with the god, managing to snag the largest dress size made to accommodate Thor’s huge frame. And there he was, in all his godly glory, lounging casually against the couch. The dress looked just about ready to burst at the seams.

You maneuvered yourself to the largest sofa and sat, tucking your legs beneath you. Bucky quickly situated himself by your side, left arm swung across the back of the couch. You nuzzled yourself into his side, getting comfy. He gingerly placed his metal arm on your stomach, making sure to keep his touch light so you didn’t get too cold. You leaned over to bran the throw blanket, folding it a few times over, and then placed it on your belly. Bucky grinned, putting his artificial hand back at once.

“Move it or lose it, Steve!” Clint screeched, jumping in his seat as he jerked his controller, passing Steve’s character on the screen. The boys had thought putting on Mario Kart was a good idea. _Right_.

Steve was sitting by the coffee table in front of you, laser focused on shooting a green shell at Clint’s character. The archer practically squealed when the shell made contact.

“How is that even possible! Green shells are supposed to be random!” He jumped up, vibrating in his skin. Steve chortled, leaning his elbows onto the table. You asked Bucky to get you a glass of water when the doorbell rang again.

“My turn,” Natasha mumbled, placing a hand on your shoulder to stop you from getting up. She slipped on Tony’s helmet and made for the door with the candy bowl.

Tony shortly joined the party, pilfering a third controller from somewhere. The living room thrived with lively banter and hysterical screeching and laughter.

The billionaire had initially wanted to throw another on of his famous parties for Halloween but when you announced that you and Bucky were expecting a child, he quickly moved to have a small, intimate party with just close friends.

Bruce carried a tray of sandwiches from the kitchen, clad in leather pants and the arm of one of Tony’s suits painted silver. He also had black eye shadow smudged across his cheeks. In short, Bruce looked adorable.

You couldn’t hold back your giggles when he turned the corner. Bruce had changed while you and Bucky were manning the door.

“Turkey and swiss, (Y/N)?” You mock gasped, “looking rugged and offering me food? I’m starting to think I chose the wrong soldier!” You grinned and took a sandwich. Tony and Steve snickered loudly before teaming up against Clint. Bucky’s arm stiffened around your shoulders, whining softly into the crook of your neck. You shook your head at his silly reaction.

“James Buchanan Barnes, I’m fucking pregnant with your child, what are you being jealous about?” You exasperated. He huffed and grumbled but you felt the blossoming grin against the skin of your neck. You hummed, digging into your sandwich when you felt a slight nudge against your belly. Bucky froze, eyes widening as he stared at your stomach.

“Was that…” _Nudge_.

A blinding smile split across his face as he placed both hands on you.

“Lil’ fucker’s kicking!” The game paused as everyone crowded around you and took turns to feel your bloated belly.

“Alright, alright, just give this mommy some space,” you swatted their hands away. Bucky gently placed his ear against you, mumbling into your belly.

“Come on, kick for daddy, you can do it,” he quietly encouraged. And the baby sure did kick, kicked his right in the nose! Boisterous laughter erupted from your friends. Bucky look at you stunned.

“That lil’ fucker just kicked me,” he whispered in awe.

“Like mother, like son.”


End file.
